


You're a Mean One, Owen Harper

by unsedentary



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas, Filk, Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsedentary/pseuds/unsedentary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Harper does not have holiday spirit. (A filk based on Dr Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Mean One, Owen Harper

Every member of Torchwood liked Christmas a lot!  
But the sad story is, Owen Harper did not.

Owen hated the Yule! The whole holiday season!  
It wasn’t too hard to guess what was the reason.

You see, Owen Harper was deader than dead.  
His heart wasn’t beating, and that made him sad!

Ten days before Yule, Torchwood set up a tree.  
Jack had allowed one because it was free.

(The reason was also that Ianto had threatened  
Not to get laid until Jack had relented.)

When Gwen hung the last ornament on the fir,  
Owen hoped Christmas would end in a blur. 

When Tosh handed out slices of Christmas cake,  
He pictured them all being drowned in a lake.

When carols had started to play on the comms,  
Owen destroyed all of Jack’s CD-Roms.

But when Janet the weevil wore a Santa Claus hat,  
The man’s stock of patience was truly well met.

“They’ve flipped the fuck out,” Owen yelled to himself,  
“The next thing they’ll do is dress Jack as an elf!

“And besides, I’m so sick of this holiday cheer.  
It’s carolling there, cakes and tree toppers here.

“Everywhere my head turns it’s just CHEER!  
CHEER! CHEER! CHEER!”

So the day before Christmas he drew up a plan.  
He’d sneak into Torchwood and load up his van.

Everything had to go: the tinsel, the tree,  
The Hub must be purged and leave only debris.

‘Twas a cold Christmas Eve in the country of Wales,  
But as Owen was dead, he did not feel the gales.

 

He parked right outside of the tourism place,  
And entered the Hub with a grim and hard face.

He was stuffing the tree in a sack of burlap,  
When suddenly Jack had appeared with a tap.

Jack looked from his co-worker to the poor fir.  
He didn’t quite know what he was seeing here.

Jack stared right at him and said, “What the fuck? Why?  
Why are you taking our Christmas tree? WHY?”

“Um,” stammered Owen, because Jack was quite nude.  
“You might want to go and get covered up, dude.”

And while Jack rolled his eyes but still covered his flesh,  
Owen said, “The burlap will keep this tree fresh.”

“Okay then,” said Jack, “Do whatever you want to.  
Excuse me, but I have to get back to Ianto.”

And Jack walked away, leaving Owen alone,  
And Owen turned back on the over-cheered zone.

When sun rose again to announce Christmas Day,  
Owen would make sure the place wasn’t gay.

He took all the garlands, the tinsel, the holly,  
He took every last trace of holiday folly.

So thorough indeed was his clean-up job that  
He went down to the basement and took Janet’s hat.

When he finished, the Hub again looked like their base:  
A vast and cold, secret and underground space.

He was glad of his work and smiled a big smile.  
It had taken all night but had been worth the while!

On the morn of the day, he came back bright and early,  
Expecting to find all his colleagues quite surly.

Instead, the four friends were quite cosy together,  
Each one of them wearing a new knitted sweater.

 

“Owen!” Tosh said when she saw him come through.  
“Come join us, I made one of these for you too!”

Owen was speechless. But how could this be?  
Christmas had come though he’d stolen the tree!

He stood there and puzzled the problem for long,  
And then he thought, maybe he could have been wrong?

Christmas was not simply tinsel and trees!  
Christmas was friends, and he had four of these.

Suddenly Owen felt a strange heat,  
And the heart in his chest beat a BEAT!   
BEAT! BEAT! BEAT!

And the blood in his veins again started to flow!  
The colour that spread through him made Owen glow!

His gloominess faded as he sat down for cake,  
And asked for forgiveness for his grave mistake.

That evening, Owen Harper himself carved the ham,  
And he learned not to hate Christmas ever again.

* * *


End file.
